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Queen's music echoed through the house, almost drowning out the sound of the persistent raindrops pattering against the windows. Candles cast their soft light over the room, while the scent of roses and lavender filled the room. The atmosphere was so perfect that Aziraphale couldn't help but think he was daydreaming.
Despite the rain and the endless winter, there was something about the place that gave him warmth. Perhaps it was that beautiful star that accompanied him or that comforting smile. Crowley radiated glorious warmth, and Aziraphale needed nothing else to feel at home... but what was that fatal feeling in his chest?
His hands clutched tightly around Crowley's waist as they danced to the soft rhythm of their favourite ballads. His face hid in her chest, imploring her not to let go. One could almost say that Aziraphale feared parting, or at least abandonment.
—I'm not going anywhere. — Crowley said in a tone so soft it barely sounded like a faint whisper.
Aziraphale clung even tighter.
—Yes, you will. You will go away again and leave me alone.
A sad smile appeared on his fiancée's face as they parted. Their eyes met, and Aziraphale found it difficult to hold back the tears that threatened to spill out. The sparkle in Crowley's eyes was like a million constellations in the night sky, and Aziraphale always loved getting lost in them. He simply couldn't help but fall more in love with her every time.
He felt the need to say something, he could feel it in the pit of his stomach, but he couldn't think what it could be. He cursed himself yet again, because he could never find the right words to express the feelings he unconsciously suppressed in his chest. Despite that, he never stopped proving to Crowley that she was the person he loved most in the entire galaxy. Nothing was ever more important than her, and she always knew it. That's why, to this day, Aziraphale wonders what he did wrong and if it was really his fault that their story was left like this, suspended.
—That doesn't matter anymore. — Crowley whispers, as if she can somehow read his mind. —Don't think about it, Angel. Darling, I'm here.
Aziraphale closed his eyes, no longer able to hold back the tears.
—Tell me if it's my fault, Crowley. Tell me if it was because of me that you left me that day.
Still with his eyes closed, he allows himself to be guided by his fiancée, who takes his hand gently and assures him that they will go to the place where they are supposed to be. No, Aziraphale thinks, I don't want to go there. For the first time, Crowley is not able to hear his thoughts, and likewise guides him to the place he feared so much.
A strong wind blew against his face, and his skin bristled at the touch of the cold winter breeze. He was afraid to open his eyes because he feared what awaited him in absolute reality. Crowley insisted, "Here is the answer, love. Open your eyes."
Their hands loosened, and Aziraphale looked desperately for his fiancée, but he had a horrible feeling that she was no longer there. He did not want to face the scene he was waiting for, so painfully anxious, the signal to start. And so he did not open his eyes. He cried out her name, in tears implored her to come back, and begged her forgiveness. He apologised for not being enough, for not giving her what she deserved, for not realising that she was crying out for help and, above all, for letting go of her hand that day.
When he finally opened his eyes, he found himself locked in that very scene.
Crowley was standing on the edge. The sky was so dark that the place was barely illuminated by the faint light of the setting sun. The wind beat against Aziraphale's face as he ran. The fear he felt at that very moment was stronger than any other feeling he had ever known. Yet all he could think about was holding her hand. He called out her name in tears, he was so close to reaching her....
Crowley turned and watched him. Her face abandoned all trace of sadness, and before she disappeared from Aziraphale's sight, she whispered, "I love you, Angel."
The feeling that flooded Aziraphale is simply inexplicable. He felt that no one, ever, would be able to feel as much pain as he was feeling. He did not look down, nor did he heed the screams that echoed as his fiancée's body slumped to the ground. The pain was so intense that he was unable to stand. His heart ached so badly that he fell to his knees with his hands on his chest as he stifled a wail. His face hit the ground as he wept. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and it seemed they would never stop.
Aziraphale screamed and screamed.
But no one listened.
He woke up suddenly and found himself on the sofa in the living room. He took a breath of air and then stood up. He walked slowly through it, heedless of the amount of rubbish that had accumulated over a few days, and went upstairs to his room.
He closed the door behind his back, put on some music and went to his bed with the intention of lying down, but stopped suddenly when he noticed the glowing light coming through the window. He slowly approached it and looked up at the night sky. The moon illuminated him with its majestic light, causing the hairs on his skin to stand on end in a failed attempt to hold back his emotions.
It was not the magnificent image of the sky that made his hair stand on end, but that tiny star that shone so sublimely.
Aziraphale, after long months of waiting, smiled.
—There you are... so far away. —He whispered. He could barely speak because of the lump that atrophied his throat. —You glow so perfectly, Crowley...
His gaze was lost in the night sky, which was covered in grey clouds that barely let the moonlight through.
His star was still intact.
The day that shining star goes out, Aziraphale will no longer have a name to call. He will have no one to call. In his room, he waits in darkness for night to come to the city, and pauses at the window to talk to the star that increasingly illuminates him. From there, she continues to shine inexorably. The light that illuminates his night, his life.
Aziraphale has not closed his eyes again, he does not want to find himself returning to the abysmal memory of the day Crowley let go of his hand.
He lost what he loved most in all the galaxy, but he still has his star.